Her Eyes
by CeeSixAychTwelveOhSix
Summary: Pointless RWHG fluff with a little angst thrown in. It's hard to be away from the one you love... even if you don't want to admit it.


**A/N: So this started out as a songfic. But since I don't know the artist of the song (or the title, for that matter,) I just wrote the story _based_ on the song. Hehe. Writer's perogative, and it's perfectly legal to do without crediting. So enjoy, lovies!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. That's not to say I wouldn't _like _to own him... BAD! BAD THOUGHTS! So, yeah. Not JKR, not cool.**

"Take it easy now, Weasley! Big game tomorrow."

Ron grinned as he pulled his hotel key out of his pocket. "Will do, coach. Don't worry." _It's not like I haven't played a million games like this before,_ he added mentally. _I could go out and party all night, and I'd still play better than the other team._ He opened his door and waved goodbye to his teammates before closing it and slumping against the wall, his smile gone from his face.

His eyes traveled over to the dresser next to the king-sized hotel bed and rested on a picture. He walked slowly over to the bed, his shoulders slumped and the light gone from his eyes. Collapsing on the bed, Ron let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. Seemingly of its own accord, his hand reached out and closed around the picture frame. He brought it to rest on his chest and opened his eyes. The image of a girl greeted him.

Her thick, bushy hair was a dark chocolate brown. It would fall into her eyes, and she would reach up to brush it away, her creamy white hand matching the skin tone of her face. Her smile wasn't shy, but it wasn't flirty either. It was just a smile. It was perfect.

It was Hermione.

But Ron wasn't looking at all of those features. What he was focused on now, what he always focused on, were her eyes. Her beautiful brown eyes. But they weren't just brown; although everyone who knew her commented on her beautiful caramel eyes, Ron knew something they didn't know. Her eyes changed color: from golden-brown to the deepest of greens and back.

He stared into the eyes in the picture and sighed unhappily. It just wasn't the same. True, they were the same color, and the same shape, but they just weren't her eyes. Something was missing. Something vital. The picture just couldn't capture their depth, their light. The power they had to paralyze him with just one look.

Leaning his head back on the pillow, Ron closed his eyes and pulled the picture close to his chest. "God I miss you," he whispered.

-

"Good game, Weasley! You never let me down!"

Ron grinned widely back at his coach as he unlocked the hotel door. Thinking all the while that the situation seemed rather familiar, he replied, "Thanks coach. I try." He threw a wave over his shoulder to whoever happened to be watching before hurrying into his room and shutting the door. He quietly locked the door and threw his jacket on the floor before crossing the room to the desk across from the hotel bed. Pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill, he sat down on the chair.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Today is the twentieth day of the International Quidditch Tour, and I miss you so much. I can't wait until I'm home and we can be together again._

_We won our game today. It was actually pretty easy, which was a relief. I didn't get much sleep last night. I don't know if I could have blocked many more shots than I did._

_Tonight we leave for Bulgaria. I wonder if I'll get the chance to talk to Krum. Don't worry, 'Mione, I'll be civil. I know you're only friends. Rumor has it that he's dating a French model. Maybe it's one of Fleur's relatives. That'd be a kick._

_'Mione, I know I'm not the best with words, and I've heard it said that I have... what was it? "The emotional range of a teaspoon"? So forgive me for being completely unromantic about saying it, but I love you so much. I don't know what I'd do without you. I promise that when I get home, it's for good._

_I'm counting the days until I'm home._

_Love,_

_Ron_

-

The new hotel room was exactly like the old one; everything was in the same place. There was the prerequisite watercolor painting done in light pinks and blues and yellows. The desk sat next to the television (a rather entertaining muggle invention, that), and the television was in front of the bed. The king-sized bed with the same maroon blankets.

Ron detested maroon.

He shook his head as he sat on the edge of the bed in his boxers and an undershirt, ready for sleep. He glanced over at the mountainous formation of bed sheets that he'd had room service bring up and smiled ruefully. They'd looked at him like he was crazy when he'd asked for a dozen extra sheets, but he hadn't felt the need to explain himself. Hotel staff should be used to their guests' strange requests.

Crawling under the blankets, Ron placed an arm over the pile of sheets and drew them closer to him. He felt so empty. _Maybe if I close my eyes, I'll force myself to believe..._

He sighed. No. It was no use. He couldn't make himself believe that she was there. He opened his eyes and looked back at the picture on the bedside table. It was the first thing he'd unpacked when he had gotten to the hotel. Again, he found himself staring into Hermione's eyes, and again he found that it just wasn't the same. "What I wouldn't give to have you here," he muttered, rolling over onto his side.

-

"Weasley! You coming?"

Ron stood outside the locker room of the quidditch stadium, watching as the rest of his team headed out for drinks. They had won the game (_Of course,_ thought Ron) and wanted to celebrate being halfway to the World Cup. But all Ron wanted to do was go back to his room and go to sleep. He shook his head. "No thanks. You guys go on without me."

One of his teammates frowned. "Oh, come on, Weasley. You never go out with us. You're always holed up in your hotel room." He shook his head. "Tell the truth: are you alright?"

Ron nodded and laughed disarmingly. "Of course. I'm just tired. You guys go have fun." He winked. "Don't get too blasted."

He watched as the men walked off, laughing all the way to the bar across the way. He shook his head and turned to walk to the hotel, his hands in his pockets. Honestly, he didn't see their point. _So what if I spend all my time in my room?_ he thought. _It's better than going out every night and getting drunk._

_Besides. Writing to Hermione is all that's keeping me alive right now._

-

Ron smiled as Hermione walked into the room and sat down next to him on the couch. She handed him a mug with hot cocoa and smiled at him. He leaned in and kissed her gently. "I love you," he whispered.

She rested her head on his shoulder. "I love you too," she whispered back as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you're back," she confessed. "I missed you so much."

Ron smiled and placed an arm around her shoulders, drawing her into him. "I missed you too. And I meant it when I said that I'm staying home forever," he told her. "I quit the team."

Hermione smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling in between brown and green. "You don't have to do that," she whispered. But the depth of emotion in her eyes showed that she was happier than ever that the news was true.

Ron leaned in to kiss her...

His eyes shot open at the sound of his alarm going off. He sighed heavily. "It was only a dream," he whispered. He looked over at the picture on the bedside table and felt his heart sink. A month to go until he would see her eyes again.

He stood up and crossed to the desk. Taking out a quill and paper, he sat down again.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Today is the twenty-first day..._


End file.
